


Unexpected

by naboru



Series: SG Protectobots [2]
Category: Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Drug Abuse, Gen, Gen Fic, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blades has to look for the prisoner, and gets a surprise.</p><p>PG-13 / Blades, Blast Off, ensemble / gen, implied possible drug abuse, injuries, minor violence</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Title:** Unexpected  
 **Continuity:** Shattered Glass (Disillusion AU)  
 **Warnings:** gen, implied possible drug abuse, injuries, minor violence  
 **Characters:** Blades, Blast Off, ensemble  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
 **Summary:** Blades has to look for the prisoner, and gets a surprise.  
 **Prompt:** Shattered Glass - Blast Off/Blades - unexpected  
 **Beta:** [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty) :D

 **Note:** This is part of the Disillusion AU. Streetwise is incapable of having emotions whose origin is kinda explained in [Empty](http://lost-carcosa.livejournal.com/42186.html).

 

**Unexpected**

Blades crossed his arms, and spat a curse in Hot Spot's direction. He ducked from under the flame that shot out of his commander’s arm, and jumped aside.

“Aft head!” Blades growled, and left the room before his gestalt mate could attack him for real.

The ‘copter passed the rec-room on his way, noticing Streetwise's blank stare at his energon cube. It was hard to resist the urge to yell “How are you feeling?”, but Blades had just got away from one enraged team member. He truly didn’t want to have to escape the cold, logical approach of seriously wanting to kill him.

When he reached the brig, the ‘copter huffed in distaste. Why should he take a look at the prisoner? He hadn’t captured him, and who knew what First Aid had done to the subject already.

The door opened with a creaking sound. The room was dark, and the teal plating of the prisoner lying on the berth looked like mud of corroded copper slag.

“Hey, shuttle, get up!” Blades said, the constant aggressive undertone a little more present than usual. He hated the Combaticons, even more so after they’d become a gestalt as well.

Blast Off didn’t move.

“Great. You’re high?” The Combaticon only twitched. It seemed First Aid _had_ gone to the mech before, and had given him drugs.

Blades reached for the shuttle’s shoulder. Before the ‘copter could even touch the metal, his arm was grabbed and he was tugged down. The other’s strong hold pressed him close, so tight, the metal squealed.

It was hard to vent air, let alone to push himself off the shuttle.

“Let go!” Blades gasped.

A hand trailed over his back plating, brushed briefly a rotor and the hub, and made Blades even angrier when his rotors twitched at the sensations. Then the fingers were at his throat, and dug between his cables.

Red optics widened at the realization.

“I’m not drugged,” the shuttle whispered, and crushed Blades’ vocalizer. The other arm wrapped tighter around him, and metal dented.

Only static left the damaged vocal circuitry in an attempt to produce a scream, but even that frizzed out when Blades’ spinal strut broke. The vicelike grip lasted for over another klik, then the shuttle threw him off like he weighed nothing.

Blades tried to move, but a major hydraulic line in his back was damaged, and every signal became lost in the nonsense data his sensor cord sent off randomly.

He could only watch the Combaticon escape, and see the shuttle’s ailerons flicking nervously. Blades chocked out a laugh.

At least the shuttle was scared. Good.


End file.
